The Ronin
by The Legendary Redhawke
Summary: The Ronin


This is the newest of my works, written in April 2001. The work   
is presented here, wholly unaltered, to a new audience.  
  
Please enjoy.  
  
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This is a piece that I felt I had to write, both to alleviate some   
of my own feelings, and to prove to myself that there truly will be   
fics for me beyond Emerald Eyes. I put so much of myself into each   
of my fics, that I worry that there will come a point at which there   
will be no more to give. Maybe this is proof otherwise.  
  
Sailor Moon and her likeness are copy right yadda yadda yadda yadda   
yadda you've heard it all before  
  
  
  
The Ronin  
  
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by The Legendary Redhawke  
  
  
  
As I wander, I see only what is myself. I see that which I have lost,   
and that which I have left behind. I see what I used to be, and I   
what I wanted to become. I see destinies past, and destinies   
discarded. Most of all, I see the hands and hearts I held, and which   
held me. I see thos faces which smiled at me in my darkest moments,   
which showed me their most vulnerable moments, which trusted me.  
  
Place to place, I roam, and never once have I looked back. For to   
look back is to long for the past, to long to experience the   
memories held deep within my heart. That is something which I can   
never do, no matter how I would wish to. It is something I would   
never wish to do, no matter how possible it may ever be.  
  
The wind sweeps my tears away as the end flows back to me, the way   
they called out for me, the way they wept for me, for their one   
hope. I remember the way I wished I might have been taken, the   
way I felt useless to be living while all that I had ever loved was   
perishing before me.  
  
I am the lost. The one. The end. The only.  
  
I survived, when those whom I would have given my very soul for,   
died. I survived, when the stronger perished. I survived, when I   
did not deserve to.  
  
Now I roam. I pass through the cesspools and miracles of the world   
with only eyes for what lay ahead. I hold only the souls of my   
beloved deep within my heart. There are no photographs, no   
mementos. They are only dust, to be swept away as time wishes. My   
heart is swept away only when I am reunited with them.  
  
I have witnessed a thousand years of death and rebirth, separation   
and reunion. We always managed to find some deep happiness,   
together, while today, I find only solitude. Perhaps there will be   
another thousand years. Perhaps we will find each other once more.   
Perhaps I'll never be lost, and never find them again. My life has   
had its only meaning, and still retains it. I am destined, have   
been destines since long before this life began, to fight for those   
morals which my beloved gave their very existences for, which I   
wish I had given my existence for, which I shall give my existence   
for.  
  
My deep brown eyes still shine with the essence of millennia of   
tears, ever falling for the many times they've been lost. My   
crimson lips form a fleeting smile as I remember the way we all   
used to laugh, the love that could be seen, felt, and simply   
experienced between us all. We were more than what we were   
considered. We were bonded so deeply that it would not be wrong   
to consider us as being of one soul, as being one together. No   
matter what came between us, we remained so held by each other,   
so unable to let go, with no desire to do such.  
  
I pass another mountain, another river, another city as I seek to   
find myself among the ruins of what used to be my life, all   
swirling madly within my mind. What was I meant to be? I doubt   
if I'll ever know the answer to such a question. If I was meant   
to be anything, why would I not be that, instead of a restless   
wanderer, as I have been so long?   
  
They were cut down, so young, so fragile, and I was unable to do   
anything to save them, to save anything that they had worked so   
hard for. I only saved myself. I took my revenge upon their   
killer, years afterwards. I struck him down, and called out   
toward the sky. I hope they heard me. I hope that they were   
proud of me for avenging their deaths, for destroying something   
so evil. I hope they see me always.  
  
The deep brown of my hair has not faded, and the I still wear the   
red of old. I cannot forget what allows me to continue my fight,   
the fuku we all wore. Maybe I'll always be this young woman,   
this strange wanderer that everyone sees. Maybe I can see   
everyone, and have no one know my name again.  
  
Perhaps it's better that way. The ones I loved, who loved me in   
return, are all dead, gone, and because I was too weak to save them.   
I don't want anyone to love me any longer. Those who love me all   
die, all are cut down in their prime, no matter how much I wish I   
may be able to save them. That's why I am a wanderer, a ronin, a   
warrior without a lord, without a home.  
  
We were always meant to be beside each other. We swore on   
everything we could have ever held dear that we would live and   
die beside each other, that we would never have to be alone.   
  
Yet they shine in my hearts, pushing me ever forward, forcing me   
never to give in to what I would want. They fell fighting, for   
me, for themselves, for the world, for their love. They won't   
allow me to give in.   
  
Should it be that I am left as nothing but lonely? Should it be   
that I will die alone?  
  
They speak to me. They tell me that though I may die alone, we   
will all be born and reborn together. The millenia we may be   
forced to spend apart will be redeemed when we first see that   
unique gleam in each other's eyes. I am loved.  
  
Perhaps I will find some glimpse of happiness in my solitude.   
Perhaps the knowledge of their eternal presence will allow me to   
go on. Perhaps even immortality will not stop me from being that   
which I have been destined to be. Perhaps I can finally be who   
I am.  
  
Perhaps I can turn back.  
  
Perhaps I can begin to see what I have always wanted to see.   
  
Perhaps I can find my home, the place meant for me alone, without   
the terror, without the guilt, without the regrets, without the   
fear.  
  
Perhaps I already have....  
  
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I have to thank a great friend, and an incredible author, Scutter.   
She's been a constant inspiration, and a wonderful person. It will be   
a lucky man who falls in love with you, Scutter. Thank you.  
  
The Legendary Redhawke - redhawkeanime@hotmail.com  
  
http://www.geocities.com/redhawke4 - Redhawke FR 


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